Silent Voice

Faint white noise was heard throughout the camp again. Hoseok looked out of his tent and started to trace the source of the noise. He went out, welcomed by the scent in the wind, and kept walking to the back while he followed the sound that got louder. He arrived at a tent at the very back before he sighed. Just like he thought, it was Jungkook’s tent that he shared with one of the boys. He could see the young boy from the opening and he examined Jungkook’s features. Unmoving, the boy was sitting on the pile of blankets which became his bed. With eyes closed, and a radio in his hands, Jungkook tilted his head upwards, listening to the white noise intensely. As if it was speaking to him. Once in a while, his head twitches side to side, looked like he was catching a word or two.

Hoseok entered the tent slowly towards him, not wanting to startle the boy. And with one click, he turned off the radio. Immediately, the tent’s atmosphere dropped into complete silence. Jungkook’s eyes snapped open. He glared at Hoseok for disrupting his concentration with the radio, but Hoseok only gave him a faint smile and sighed.

“Dinner’s ready. You want to eat with me in my base?” Hoseok asked him softly.

Jungkook shook his head and was about to turn on his radio again, but Hoseok quickly grabbed his hand.

“Come on, I know you are worried because they take longer than they should. But I believe they will be alright. They might find something interesting and lose track of time. You’ve been listening to that noise all day, so please eat something,” Hoseok gave him a long, concerned look.

“Should we eat here, then?” he pleaded with Jungkook one more time.

Jungkook gave him a long sigh. After thinking for a moment, he slowly nodded his head and that widened Hoseok’s smile. Hoseok gently took the radio away from his hands and placed it on the piling blankets before he headed out. The voices of the night started to fill Jungkook’s ear now that he stopped listening to the white noise. The crickets, the wind, the frog, and some other animals he couldn’t recognise. He slowly walked to the opening of his tent and looked out, wondering where the other boys might be. They never took this long to scavenge. But it wasn’t the first time either that the boys lost track of time because they were playing silly games or wandering too far in the forest.

His mind wandered to where he was at that moment: their precious base. He still couldn’t believe all seven of them were finally free from those cages. He did feel sorry for other kids who couldn’t make it, but seven is still a huge number. No one ever escaped from that facility before. They were determined to escape since the day they were grouped together in the same cage and eventually became close together; especially after that incident happened.

Jungkook was startled by Hoseok appearing right in front of him, carrying two bowls with some kind of cloth.

“Step aside, it’s hot,” he warned Jungkook.

As Jungkook moved away from the opening of the tent, Hoseok hurriedly went inside the tent, putting down two bowls containing something steaming inside. He might carry them with cloth as it won’t burn his hands, judging from how hot the food might be.

“It’s a little bit cold tonight, so I made a rabbit stew,” he said while he sat down on the pile of blankets.

Jungkook carefully touched the bowl, and just like Hoseok just said, it was hot, alright. So he picked it up with the cloth that Hoseok left on the blankets, before sitting down beside him. Hoseok was already in the middle of blowing his spoon full of stew, and couldn’t wait to dig in. Jungkook did the same, and gobbled a spoonful as well into his mouth.

“How was it?” Hoseok asked in anticipation.

Jungkook frowned and lifted his hand in front of him, palm facing down and shook it. Then he moved his hand on top of the bowl and made a gesture of sprinkling something on it.

“Kook, I don’t follow you. I can only assume that it tasted like shit and I needed to do something about it.”

Jungkook huffed and grabbed his notebook not too far from the blankets and a pencil that was already half its original size. He then started writing on it and showed it to Hoseok.

It’s bland. You should add more salt or something.

“Yeah I know, I’m not that good of a cook like Yoongi-hyung or Jin-hyung. Besides, we are low on supplies, remember? So this is the best that we can have. I hope the boys will come back soon for more.”

Jungkook wrote something in his notebook again.

I hope so, too.

After that, they both ate in silence.

*

Hours later, and the boys haven’t come back yet. Hoseok was not going to lie, he was worried. They never went out later than a day. But he didn’t want to show his worry to Jungkook. The boy already felt anxious as it is, he didn’t want to make it worse.

Jungkook immediately went back to listen to the white noise after they finished dinner. Hoseok wanted to stop him at first, but he thought it might calm distressed Jungkook, so he let the boy be. Instead, Hoseok went out of the tents, trying his best to set up security around it. He assembled a snare linked to a group of cans that would jingle when someone (or something) snapped the thread. Dried leaves and small branches scattered all around the tent that would make noise when someone stepped on it. He also hid all of the supplies in the other tents to make sure animals won’t snatch it away. Hoseok then grabbed his dagger before he went back to Jungkook’s tent. He decided that they should stay close together, or he should stay close to Jungkook. The boy needed his protection. Jin-hyung could sleep in another tent when he came back.

Hoseok wasn’t surprised to see Jungkook still concentrating on the white noise. Without a second thought, he switched off the radio which received another glare from the boy.

“You need to sleep, it’s late. If they don’t come back in the morning, we’ll go look for them,” Hoseok said while propping himself in the pile of blankets beside Jungkook.

With annoyance, Jungkook pointed at Hoseok, then put his palms together and placed it under his cheek.

“I sleep? Well, I am going to, but you need to sleep, too.”

Jungkook shook his head and turned on the radio again. In seconds, the white noise filled the tent that made Hoseok sighed.

“Suit yourself, but we’re going first thing in the morning,” Hoseok mumbled while turning his back to Jungkook and drifting to sleep.

*

Hoseok looked around. The tents were in shambles, as if a hurricane just hit. His heartbeat sky-rocketed, breathing shortened, blood ran cold. What happened? He ran around the ruin, trying to find the other boys.

“Jungkook!” he shouted, but received no answer. “Jungkook!”

Hoseok crouched beside one of the fallen tents, pulling out the cloth to reveal what’s hidden beneath it. He was hoping to find at least one of the boys buried under the pile of things. After a while, he saw a lock of hair.

“Oh my God!”

He pulled the debris faster and the figure slowly revealed. It was Jimin lying on his stomach. Even after the ruckus caused by Hoseok, he was unresponsive. Please be alive.

“Jimin! Wake up!” Hoseok shook his shoulder but his effort was futile. Jimin didn’t move an inch.

“Wake up! Please!” He shook Jimin faster, tears welled up in his eyes. “Help! Jungkook!”

In desperation, he called Jungkook over and over again but he didn’t receive any answer. Dread washed over him as he began to imagine Jungkook in the same state as Jimin that he cradled in his arms.

Suddenly, he heard the white noise that used to came from Jungkook’s radio.

“Jungkook?” he faintly called the boy, but he couldn’t make up where the sound came from.

He gently put Jimin down, and started to walked towards the sound, even though he wasn’t sure where the source of the sound was. As he took another step, the sound got louder in his ears. It was as if the white noise was everywhere. Hoseok turned left and right, not sure where to go. He called Jungkook again and again, but his voice was swallowed by the noise. The sound merged into screeching note as it pierced Hoseok ears. He moaned and screamed, couldn’t take it anymore. His head was ready to explode.

*

Someone shook Hoseok’s body and he jolted awake. Jungkook’s face welcomed him to reality, entirely panicked. The white noise still filled the room. Jungkook groaned as he shook Hoseok’s body harder. He looked like he was about to cry.

“What? What is it?” Hoseok wanted to look calm so Jungkook would calm down but he failed miserably.

Jungkook pointed at Hoseok and to the opening of the tent, he repeated the gesture over and over again.

“Why? Why?” Hoseok tried to understand Jungkook but his brain wasn’t working, moreover after the nightmare that he just had.

Frustrated, Jungkook grabbed his pencil and notebook, frantically wrote something on it. He quickly shoved it onto Hoseok’s face.

SOMETHING’S COMING. RUN!

“What’s coming?”

SHADOW

The cans clattered just outside the tent. Both of them yelped. Whatever creature that Jungkook mentioned, it’s here. In a flash, Hoseok turned off the radio and pulled the blanket over the both of them. Jungkook’s eyes widen as he shook his head and slapped on Hoseok’s chest, ushered him to run.

“Jungkook, whatever the Shadow is, it’s right outside. It’s not safe, we have to hide!” Hoseok whispered, but Jungkook still shoved Hoseok’s chest weakly with his palms. Crunched sounds of broken branches let Hoseok knew that the creature was moving closer.

Hoseok could hear Jungkook’s faint sobs. The boy repeatedly took a deep breath, as if he wanted to make himself calm. Then Hoseok heard it, faint and croaked, but he heard it clearly. The voice that had been missing for years.

“H-H-hyung, r-run!” the voice interrupted by sobs but it was clearly came out from Jungkook’s mouth.

Before Hoseok could savour the proud feeling blossomed in his chest that the boy could finally talk again, something grabbed his ankle and dragged him out of the tent. Jungkook screeched when he saw his hyung disappeared from in front of him.

Hoseok pulled his dagger out from its sheath, ready to attack. He looked up to the creature that dragged him. Even in darkness he could see, the menacing black smog hovered over him like a storm cloud. Two dots resembled eyes stared back at him. Strange, something was familiar about them. Hoseok’s eyes locked into those two orbs. And the last thing he saw was the darkness devoured him.

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The Power of Three

“Let’s play a game.”

He heard a man’s voice from all around him. The vision right before him was all blurred, but he managed to register the dominance of white colour of the room. There was a loud ringing sound from inside his head that throbbed and throbbed as if he just fell down and banged his head on the ground.

“We know about the power that you hold within you, and we want you to show us how powerful it is.”

That voice again, it swayed in his head like waves. It pushed and pulled; every time his head was pulsating, the voice got more and more irritating. He tried his best to grip onto his consciousness, pushing his body upwards with his elbows. Why is everything so heavy? He blinked once, then twice until his eyesight slowly focused. As his sight was blurry no more, he began to scan the whole room. All he could see was white. White walls, white small single bed, white lights. It looked like he was put into a cage rather than a room. 

Right in front of him was a giant glass window. He suddenly felt as if he was a part of an exhibition in a zoo. The glass window filled an entire part of a wall, the whole room could be seen from the outside. And just the same, he could see what was out there from that window. The hallway was also covered in white, and a row of identical cages lined up across his. There were two other men locked up in two separate cages in front of him. They were wearing similar clothes to what he was wearing, their faces concerned, hands banging on the glass window, trying to call out to him. 

Do I know them? But then it dawned to him. Do I know myself? For some reason, his head seemed empty, hazy. How did I get there? He didn’t remember. In fact, he didn’t remember anything at all. As if waking up in that room was the first memory that he had in his mind. While he was in deep thought, the glass door slowly opened.

“If you want to save your friends, all you need to do is to solve each puzzle that you see in front of their doors.”

That voice buzzed again, it seemed like it came from a loudspeaker but he couldn’t find any sort of a device that resembled a speaker anywhere. But a word said by the voice caught his attention. Friends? Those two men were his friends? It might explain the similarity of their clothes. He reluctantly walked to one of the cages. He looked at the man inside with reddish-brown curly hair. There was true fear written on his eyes, and his thin lips saying something that he couldn’t comprehend, while shaking his head. Long fingers belonged to the man inside tapped on the glass window. Then, he noticed a set of square buttons on the ground below him, each with symbols not recognisable to him. He crouched down, examining the device more closely.

Suddenly he heard a hiss, and when he looked up, the fear in the man’s eyes grew. Behind him, gas started to leak into the cage like a cloud. The man then banged on the window more fervently. 

“Come on, Namjoon. You shouldn’t waste any time or both of your friends won’t survive.”

Namjoon? Is that my name? For a second, a sense of connection with that name washed over him.

The smoke got thicker. That man collapsed on the floor. Namjoon pushed on the buttons frantically. Panic grew and grew in his mind.

“Tick tock, tick tock.”

Namjoon pushed the last button and the device gave a loud beep. In an instant, the sound of machine whirring was heard and the thick fog was vacuumed into the ventilation as the glass window for both cages went up. Namjoon didn’t waste any time running inside and shook the shoulders of the curly haired man that was harshly wheezing on the floor.

“Hey, hey! You’re safe!” 

The man looked at Namjoon with teary eyes, struggling to utter his last word.

“Jin-hyung… Save Jin-hyung.”

And it came over him. Another name that sounded too familiar to him and made something inside him suddenly gurgled onto the surface, ready to burst. Namjoon didn’t know what was the void that suddenly grew inside him, but it made his vision blurred again, and his body shook as if he was about to be crushed by immense pressure. He shut his eyes as his head throbbed and throbbed. The man’s last word echoed in his mind. Save Jin-hyung.

He opened his eyes again and it was all white.

“Let’s play a game.”

What? That familiar voice again, saying the same thing minutes ago. Was he dreaming? Namjoon desperately tried to focus on his vision, blinking rapidly in hope to achieve clear eyesight quicker. He lifted his body the same way as before, and the same feeling of heaviness rushed back to him. What just happened?

“We know about the power that you hold within you, and we want you to show us how powerful it is.”

Yes, he definitely said that before. Exactly the same thing. Was he having a predictive dream? But everything seemed so real. He could still remember clearly the face of the dying man choking his last words. Save Jin-hyung. When his body calmed down, and his eyesight was all better, Namjoon immediately looked at the cages across the glass window. Those men were still alive, and looked exactly like his dream. He then focused on the curly haired man on the left. The same panicked induced expression, same hands with slender fingers banging on the window, and mouthed the same thing. This time, Namjoon thought that he understood what he meant. Namjoon-hyung!

Namjoon’s eyes travelled to the cage next to him. There, he saw another man that was taller than the other, his brown hair was smooth, and his lips were full. The expression almost mimicked the man in the cage next to him, shaking his head. Namjoon-ah, that’s what Namjoon thought he said. Is he Jin-hyung?

The glass window opened and Namjoon wasted no time to approach the cage on the right this time. 

“Ah, eager aren’t we? If you want to save your friends, all you need to do is to solve each puzzle that you see in front of their doors.”

The fear in Jin’s face grew as Namjoon stood right in front of him. He looked down and saw exactly the same device as the one in front of the other cage, only this one had different symbols on the buttons. Think, you can do this better than last time. He then started to work on the puzzle, pushing buttons after buttons trying to solve the mystery. He ignored the constant banging from inside the cage. But when he started to hear hissing sound, Namjoon couldn’t help but to look up and witness the white cloud forming inside the cage. 

“Come on, Namjoon. You shouldn’t waste any time or both of your friends won’t survive.”

Shit! Not again! 

And it happened again as if in a replay: the smoke got thicker, Jin coughed and wheezed before he collapsed on the floor, and Namjoon started to push on the buttons like a madman.

“Tick tock, tick tock.”

Finally, he solved the puzzle with a loud beep, allowing the cloud to be vacuumed out to the ventilation and the glass window to open. Jin was still coughing on the floor, and his breathing got heavier every time he tried to inhale. Namjoon cradled his head in his arms and tapped on his cheek anxiously.

“Jin-hyung?” He called, unsure.

Jin chuckled and opened his eyes. In that exact moment, Namjoon seemed to be sucked into the bright purple irises. His vision pirouetted, it felt like he just dunked his head into water. But then, he saw snippets of images as if he was a character in a movie. There were them, and he recognised them well this time. Himself, Taehyung and Jin-hyung, walking about in the forest looking for supplies. But they were careless and unprotected. They realised too late as they were already surrounded by people in uniforms. People that they had been avoiding all these time. In panic, Taehyung turned back and covered Namjoon’s eyes with his hand, sucking all the memories he had left.

Namjoon jolted awake.

“Let’s play a game.”

Namjoon smirked as he closed his eyes to go back to the beginning.

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Something in The Forest

Sound of footsteps crushing on dry leaves echoed throughout that silent forest. A group of four, with cameras in hands, ready to explore the green that surrounds them. Taylor walked right in front, he’s the group leader after all. For days he had planned this trip with his team to capture the beauty of nature that he loved the most. And at the same time to test his analog skills. After they had walked for a while, they noticed that the sun had stayed in a perfect angle, giving them the best possible lighting. The rays went through the leaves perfectly, illuminating hues of greens and browns in the most intricate way. One by one, they grabbed their weapons, and started to shoot the wilderness around them.

The group continued to admire the beauty of the forest for a while until the sun slipped downwards, indicating that nighttime would come pretty soon. Knowing that they might be lost in the dark, Taylor asked his group to pack up and head back to the cabin they were staying at. In no time, footsteps were heard again, this time going further and further away.

As soon as they reached the cabin, it was already getting very dark. The group immediately prepared for dinner outdoors. One person started the fire, another cooked a dish in the kitchen to be brought outside, and others were busy checking on the result of the photo-hunt earlier. As for Taylor? He couldn’t wait to go back to town and develop his results.

*

As soon as the study period started, Taylor rushed to the photography building and worked on his shots. He had done it before, but he always thought that he needed the extra practice in order to create better results. Especially for the upcoming exhibition. He wanted his team to be the best, collecting praises from the professors. And the last trip to the forest was his way to achieve that.

After working on the photographs for a while, finally the images were ready. One by one, Taylor plucked them off the hanger, and observed how it turned out. Some of the pictures came out blurry and showing lights bled through the image. He might need to bin them later. But then, his eyes were distracted towards one particular photograph. It was when he took a picture of a path in the forest, and for some reason, there was a man standing at the distance. Who was he? Was there anyone else in the forest besides him and his team?

Thinking that he might not be looking at it properly, he went out of the darkroom to look at the picture again. But it was still the same, there was definitely a man standing between the trees. Even though his image wasn’t very clear, the shape of it couldn’t be translated otherwise. The gears inside Taylor’s brain seemed to turn faster. He could’ve sworn there were nobody else besides them in the forest, and no nearby cabin beside theirs either. How strange.

*

The team assembled to discuss which photographs they would put on the exhibition. Taylor was looking at the results of his team on his laptop, since most of them use digital cameras, while the other team looked at his printed photograph. As he flicked through photos after photos, his finger suddenly came into a halt when a similar figure came up on a picture. The figure of a man that appeared in his picture as well.

“Who took this picture?” Taylor jumped a little when his friend called out.

He was holding the photograph that Taylor had in mind, the one with the figure of a man in it. Taylor gulped his own saliva, his mouth suddenly felt dry. He had no idea why that picture made him so nervous.

“I did,” Taylor said.

“What? Isn’t this you in it?” his friend asked Taylor back, which surprised him even more.

“No, I don’t know who that is.”

“Looks like you.”

Taylor went back observing the image on his laptop screen and held the urge to tell his friend that the man was in his photo, too. Then, he slowly guided the cursor to click on the menu and deleted the picture.

*

Taylor couldn’t get the photograph off his mind. He scanned through all of his team’s photos and didn’t find any other images of the man. He knew it might just be an unimportant matter, but time and time again his brain would start to wonder who the man was, where did he come from and what was he doing in the forest. Most importantly, why didn’t he and his team notice this man before when they were in the forest? These thoughts constantly occupy his head to the point he couldn’t even concentrate on the exhibition anymore.

Later that day, he decided to just go back to the forest and make sure he wasn’t seeing things. It looked like a hopeless quest, and the man he was looking for might not be there anymore, but he thought he could at least find if there was another accommodation nearby their cabin. And that would be enough of an answer for him. This time, he brought his digital camera with him, so he could look at the result immediately, if he succeeded to find this person. As he drove to the forest, his heart started to beat faster, not knowing what to expect. He knew he was acting crazy, but he needed to get this thought out of his mind.

When he arrived, he immediately bolted out of the car, didn’t even bother to park it properly. He traced every path that the team went last time, even though he wasn’t so sure that he went to the exact same path as last time. All paths in the forest looked the same, and he went when the sun was still up last time. After walking for a while, he finally realised that the possibility of him getting lost was very high. He remembered that he didn’t go that far the other day, and definitely not at that speed either. But when he was about to turn around, something caught his eyes between the trees ahead.

It was a shadow, a figure, very familiar to that man in his pictures. Was it really him? Taylor stood there for a while, not sure what to do. His brain screamed that he should turn around and go back to his car, but his curiosity fought with that thought, saying that he was the mysterious man in his picture and he finally found him. He wouldn’t want his effort to come all the way there to be wasted. So Taylor lifted his foot, slowly approaching the figure. He seemed to not notice Taylor as he was facing the other way. As Taylor got closer and closer to him, he gradually lifted his digital camera that hung on his neck. Suddenly, Taylor stopped and looked at the man through the viewfinder. He took a picture of him.

The sound of the shutter went off startled the figure. And as he turned around to face Taylor, it gave Taylor a shock, he immediately dropped the camera. It was him. The mysterious man was Taylor, or someone that looked exactly like him. Everything was the same, his height, his hair, his body build, even his thin lips; Taylor felt like he was looking at a mirror. 

One last thing Taylor remembered before everything went dark was how bright his green eyes were.

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Unnecessary Evil

Thud… thud!

That strange sound again. This is the third night that annoying sound wakes me up at this ungodly hour. What the hell are my neighbours doing at this hour? Don’t they know the walls in this building are pretty thin? Whatever it is, they better keep it down tomorrow. Or do it in another time, for God sake.

Thud!

There it is again. I take a deep breath and bang at the wall back at them. Some people need sleep and wake up early in the morning. I wait for a solid 5 minutes in case they make a sound again, as I am ready to run towards their door to give a piece of my mind when they do. Thankfully, 5 minutes passed and there’s no more sound coming from the room next door. Thank God. I guess they got my message.

*

The alarm sound of my phone screams at me without mercy. While I struggle to open my eyes, I blindly scan my right side with my arm and turn off the alarm once I find my phone. Or so I thought, because 10 minutes later it does exactly the same thing. This time, I am able to muster my energy to lift my eyelids. The effort to sit up on my bed is real, though. I can feel my body is aching everywhere. Three days of disturbed sleep is starting to catch on. I quickly make a mental note to talk to my neighbour before I head to work. But first, I need to conquer shower.

It hasn’t been that long since I moved to this apartment building. I was looking for somewhere cheap to stay. And as a student who juggles studies with part-time jobs, I don’t have the luxury to live in a lavish apartment. Beggars can’t be choosers, they say. What I didn’t expect is to stay in a place that will cost me my limited time to rest. 

As I walk out my room, heading towards the stairs, I go past my neighbour’s door and it stops my track. After a few seconds of deep breaths, I take a turn towards the door and knock at it three times. No answer. I repeat the gesture a bit louder this time, and still no answer. Well, they might be still asleep judging from the activity they were doing in late hours. I decided to just talk to them later tonight after I go back from work.

*

When I walk upstairs to my apartment, I don’t realise that there’s someone in the hallway as I’m too immersed in the song I’m listening to through the headphones. Just when I’m about to unlock my door and pluck my headphones off my ears, I hear someone locking the door next to mine. I have a quick glance, and see a lady just come out from the apartment next door. She might be my neighbour. Immediately, I remembered about the noise last night.

“Excuse me,” I called her rather loudly as she looks like she’s about to leave.

When she hears my voice, she turns to face me and I walk closer to her.

“Do you live in this room?”

“Oh, hello. I’m Mrs. Jones’s daughter, I just moved in with her a few days ago. Mum really needs help taking care of the building, she’s getting a bit old.”

“So, you’re not staying in this room?”

“Oh, no. We only use this room for storage. Is there something wrong?”

I frown a bit at her answer. Storage room? Did she move her things at 3 AM in the morning?

“Er… I heard a lot of noise from this room at night, it’s been a few days and I was about to tell you to keep it down.”

This time, it’s her turn to wrinkle her forehead. And because of her reaction, my words suddenly feel stupid.

“That’s strange. I’ll have someone to look at it, might be rats sneaking in through the roof.”

I give her my thanks and walk back towards my room, stealing a glance at her who’s already walking towards the stairs. Do rats make that much noise at night? I would never know.

*

Few days have passed and yet the noise remains. Today is the day I am about to go crazy due to lack of sleep. I even dozed off in class yesterday, it felt like a ton of weight was dangling on them. No matter what I did, I couldn’t keep them open. So this morning, before I go to class, I am determined to have a long talk with Mrs. Jones about the noise. Or her daughter, again. 

I stomp angrily towards her apartment unit and knock the door 3 times. It takes a while until someone answers, I even thought about giving it another knock. When the door opens, I can see Mrs. Jones’ daughter’s head pops out. She looks surprised to see me.

“Good morning, uh…” I stumble upon my words, realising I don’t even know her name.

“Eliza.” 

“Right, uh hello again. I’m the one who lives on the second floor. We met a few days ago.”

“Yes, I remember. I don’t think I got your name either.”

“It’s Peter. Anyway, did you have someone to look at the storage room, yet?”

“Yes, I did. But we didn’t find any rats, or other animals that might get stuck in the room. Does the noise still bother you?”

“Yes, it’s still going on every night. Can you, maybe, check again?”

“Are you sure it’s from the storage room? Not from upstairs or something?”

Now that she put it that way, I am not so sure.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Alright, then. I’ll try to have a look again. I’m sorry about it, Peter.”

We end the conversation and I hurriedly go to class. While I walk to class, I can’t help wondering why she didn’t let me inside her apartment. Was Mrs. Jones still sleeping? 

*

I finally arrived at the apartment building after a long shift today. My lack of sleep really doesn’t help, either. There are a number of times I feel like collapsing while tending the tables. I don’t think the customers were very happy when I wrote their orders wrong as well. All I think about while walking home is to sleep, but I know I won’t be having that.

After I walk upstairs to the second floor, my legs suddenly stop in front of the storage room. What does she have in there anyway? Is it rude to just ask her open the door for me instead, so I can take a look at the room myself? Maybe I can even help her rearrange the things in there that have the possibility to make noise at 3 AM every night. 

I suddenly snap back from my thoughts, realising that I have been staring at the door for a long time. I look down to the floor, staring at my shadow that connects to the bottom part of the door. Even my own shadow looks blurry. But then it moves a little bit. Wait, that’s not my shadow. It looks like someone is standing at the other side of the door. Eliza? What is she doing in there without turning the lights on?

“Eliza?”

The shadow disappears in a flash, as if she’s running further inside. But there’s definitely someone in there. Why did she run away? I step forward towards the door and give it a light knock.

“Eliza, are you in there?”

“Peter?”

My heart nearly dislodge from my chest as I hear her answer, but not from inside the room. My head snaps to the right and I see her walking towards me, as if she is just from the stairs.

“Wh– I saw someone in there, I thought it was you.” She wrinkled her forehead like always. It seems my words are always ridiculous according to her.

“Maybe you heard the rats?”

“I saw a shadow of someone standing behind the door, but when I call your name, it disappeared.”

She sighs, and fishes out a key from her pocket.

“Peter, are you sure you didn’t watch too many horror movies?” She slides the key in and turns it until the door is unlocked, then she pushes it open.

“I’ll show you what the room is like.”

My eyes cannot really make up what’s in store inside as the room is too dark. As soon as Eliza closes the door, the lights are on and I can see the whole gaping space. The storage room is filled with nothing. I was expecting boxes and boxes of things that can be the reason the source of the noise is hiding. My mouth is open, confused. Then what did–?

Before I have the chance to turn around and question Eliza, I feel a sharp pain pierces my shoulder, and another one behind my head. And then I see black.

*

A groan escapes my mouth as I flutter my eyes open. I feel something wet and sticky at my right shoulder, and a weight pressing on me on my chest. My head is throbbing, but my whole body feels like there’s a small electric current surging inside. I try to focus as my vision blurred, I can only see a shadow of a person on me. Am I lying down?

“Hello, Peter. If only you’re not too persistent.”

Eliza?

I can hear other noise closer to my ear, but can’t really make up what it is, as my vision is still hazy. It sounds like a sound a sponge makes when it’s squeezed. It’s repeated over and over again, it’s starting to feel like my head is making this up.

“I had to get rid of the other guy as he made too much noise.” I groan again, starting to feel the pain on my right shoulder.

Suddenly another shadow appears in front of my eyes, that looks like a face of a child looking down at me. The child seems she is closer to me than Eliza. But her face looks weird, something dripping from her mouth.

“I hope you can be quiet.”

The child disappears from my sight. I look up, trying to focus more on Eliza, but the throbbing in my head is getting worse, and my vision starts to stir. I let out a last groan before darkness consumed me again.

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Felines

Disclaimer: This story is inspired by Tiger’s Bride by Angela Carter

He is the Tiger and I’m the Bride. Everything is so clear to me now.

Tiger was constantly wearing a mask, and I didn’t realize it when I was younger. He always showed me the same expression when he climbed a tree and knocked on my bedroom window; when he walked me to my school; and when he gave me sweets whenever I was upset. A mask that was almost invisible, deceived me so well as if it had already dissolved onto his face.

On our wedding day, we all dressed in black; the day we buried my parents. Their death was too sudden, it felt very unreal. Like a dream that you believed will wake up from, but then it continued. It continued until you questioned your reality, and had no choice but to accept. I walked down the path with flowers in my hands. He walked right beside me, as we were approaching my parents’ last resting place. People lowered them down to the ground, and I threw the flowers inside. He held my hand firmly, sealing our bond.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered. 

And we drove to our home.

*

“Tell me everything, Kitty. Tell me how you feel.”

“I can’t right now.”

“Don’t be afraid, you can bare everything to me.”

“I am not ready. You are my best friend and you are always there for me, but I can’t tell you everything I feel.”

He kissed my forehead before he left me alone in my new room.

*

He lives all by himself. Everything inside his home is at its right place. His walls are dark and empty, as if it hides secrets within. His bedroom door is always locked, whether he is inside or not. Every time I told him an excuse to enter his room, he always said that some people need a space to be left alone.

I have never thought that living with him will be so choking. Slowly, his mask disintegrates. The smile on his face gradually fades. The smile he used to show when he came up in front of my bedroom window. The conversation went cold when we had breakfast together before he went to work. No more sweet gifts like he used to give me when I cried out of loneliness.

Dinner has never been this tense in my life. So quiet, I can hear myself chew. The clinking of the fork and knife when they hit the plate is the only sound that accompanies us. As if they are the one who are making a conversation instead of us. An invisible bubble traps us inside; silences us from the outburst of our feelings. And he can’t trick me to make a crack on the surface.

“You are here right in front of me, but it feels as if we are miles apart. We have known each other for life, yet you seem like a stranger who invades my home. Won’t you open your heart to me, Kitty? Or am I not worth the risk?”

That night, the dinner is left unfinished.

*

The next day, he doesn’t walk me home from class like he used to. And that trip without his presence makes me able to weigh the chances for me to leave him and find another home that is less intimidating. When I arrive home, I’m surprised to see him leaning on his bedroom door, about to walk to my room. He keeps on staring at me; his face is so deep I can’t predict what he’s thinking. I decide to stop right in front of him. Not to observe, but I can’t help it. I am drawn to him, pulled by his gaze. Even though I am not sure whether he is waiting for me or thinking about something serious.

“Come inside.” 

He finally says and makes my heart race. I don’t know what to expect, what secrets he holds behind these walls.

When he opens his bedroom door, all I am thinking is to run away. I don’t know why exactly, but I am scared of what I might find in there. But this is the time when he finally decides to open his heart, so I have no choice but to step in. My steps are so slow as they suddenly become heavy. But when I am actually inside the room, and he closes his bedroom door, I finally realise why his apartment walls are so empty. His bedroom walls are so full of photos, as if they inhale all the photos from the other walls.

“You know them,” he breaks the silence, making my head turn to face him.

“Your parents,” I squeaked.

He sighs and walks towards his bed while eyeing the pictures on the walls.

“They separated and left me when I was barely an adult, but too old for other people to care.” He sits on his bed and faces me.

A tragedy similar to mine. Death of the parents, that leaves us to be lonely creatures. Craving for attention, for someone to fill the gaping hole inside.

“I long for them, but I love you,” he says again and those words catch me off guard.

“I already revealed all of me. I am bare naked in front of you now.” 

I still don’t speak and slowly walk towards him, sitting on the bed beside him. My eyes are locked on him. Minutes after minutes I arrange my words in my head even though what I need to say is already clear.

“I love you, too.” Those three words make me sick, as I too surprisingly feel naked in front of him.

“It’s been empty for so long. Come inside and fill me in.”

His action is almost immediate. He leans forward, cups the side of my head, and kisses my lips in a split second without giving me any time to think. But it is enough time for me to decide to kiss him back. His hand caresses my neck, my shoulder and my arms, followed by the trails of his kisses. On my skin, at the shadow of his touch, black stripes start to emerge. And I morph into something I’ve never been before. 

Finally, the cat turns into a tiger as well.

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The Cafe Owner

The cafe owner woke up that morning and looked at the mirror. As he stared at his own reflection, he felt disgusted. No matter how many times he tried to feel the connection with that person behind the looking glass, he didn’t find any. His long fingers touched the surface, and at the same time, the fingers belonged to that man, did the same. His eyes lingered at it. The twin orbs carefully observed the gap between his own fingers and the reflection. Everything looked fake. He then moved away from the mirror to get ready for the day. 

*

The Cafe had special rules. People are welcome to stay as long as they want, use the free wifi however they please, but they are not allowed to look at themselves. That means, using mirrors and cameras are off limits. The cafe itself was not equipped with mirrors anywhere, so if one is not confident with their appearance, they should look for another place to stay. 

Despite these strange rules, it didn’t drive the customers away. They were drawn by the aroma of delicious coffee made by the owner, after all. Many of them chose to have coffee on the go, and not linger for too long. Some others took pictures at the front of the cafe instead. Updating location at social media platforms was very important these days.

After the owner opened the cafe in the morning, it didn’t take too long for people to start pouring in. The street outside displayed by the broad windows looked busy, making all sorts of different types of people queue at the counter. Some wearing formal business attire, others wear casual clothes that made the owner think that they might be students from the university nearby.

As he was taking orders from a young man who was wearing a hoodie of a certain football club, he noticed a young lady that stood in the middle of the queue, busy taking selfies with her mobile phone. That very gesture made the owner flinch, almost pushing the wrong button at the cash register. He could also hear people that stood behind her whispering and looked at her funny.

It bothered him, and it showed. As he wrote down the order on a takeaway coffee cup, he couldn’t stop stealing glances at the lady. In his head, he already imagined himself stomping towards her and throwing her mobile phone to the wall. But, it wasn’t wise to make a scene like that. Not at his own cafe. That young man with a hoodie noticed how uneasy the owner was, and glanced at the source of his annoyance. After he saw the lady taking a selfie, he looked back at the cafe owner and shrugged his shoulders as if saying what can you do, mate? The owner saw him and threw a faint smile.

That lady finally arrived at the front of the queue. While she was contemplating on what to order from the menu, the cafe owner also weighed the choice of telling her about the selfie situation or not.

“I’ll have one cafe latte,” her words made the owner snapped from his thought.

“Hot?”

“Yes, please.”

The lady paid the amount of the beverage, but as she was about to move away, the owner stopped her.

“Sorry, we have a rule here about using your phone.”

“Pardon?”

“No cameras and mirrors allowed in this cafe.”

“Why is that?”

“That’s just the rules.”

“Well, that’s very odd.”

“Yeah… anyway, I saw you taking pictures while waiting on the line. Can you delete those pictures?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I was just taking selfies.”

“I know, but it’s still against the rules. Can you delete those, please?” The lady started to feel annoyed by the owner’s unusual request. 

“What is your problem? I didn’t take any pictures of the cafe, it’s just my face.”

“That’s still not allowed.”

“You know what? Just forget about the coffee. I’m leaving.”

Before the owner managed to say anything, she stormed out of the cafe. Other people that were queuing gazed at her, and as soon as she was out of the cafe, they shifted their eyes towards the owner. Silence fell for a long minute until a man that was in front of the queue cleared his throat that made everyone look away.

“I’ll have what that lady ordered.”

“Oh, right.”

The cafe owner input his order but he was still distracted by the thought that she left without deleting her pictures. Maybe I should put a sign at the front door next time.

*

The cafe owner looked at the mirror in the morning and felt disgusted. He even felt more disgusted as he recalled what happened the day before with the young lady that took selfies. It was very irritating for him that she would look at her own image and just agreed with it. He couldn’t understand how she seemed content with the way the camera reflected herself. 

On the other hand, the cafe owner looked at the mirror every morning, but couldn’t stand the person that stood at the other side. No matter how many times he tried to get used to the features that the mirror offered him, it still didn’t sit right with him. Something was wrong with that person who was standing right in front of him.

He couldn’t look at his reflection any longer and decided to prepare himself to open his cafe.

*

The cafe owner was too busy fiddling with the cash register that he didn’t realise there was a mobile phone in front of his face. And once he looked up, he heard shutters of the camera went off several times. Realising what was happening, he put his hand up to cover his face, even though he knew it was too late. Whoever it was, they already successfully took pictures of him. Who was it, anyway?

As he moved his hand away from his face, he was surprised to see that it was the same lady as the day before. She looked down at her phone, and before the owner could say anything, she held her phone up. The cafe owner could see the picture of himself and he immediately looked away, feeling uncomfortable. It felt as if someone had put a gun on his forehead. What does she want now?

“Is this what you don’t want people to see?”

She suddenly waved her hand that was holding her phone from side to side, taking pictures of the cafe while at it.

“Or these?”

The owner was about to snap at her, but a man that was standing behind her grabbed her shoulders and she stopped, surprised by a stranger’s sudden touch.

“I think that’s enough, miss. You are disturbing the line, and especially the owner. Clearly, you knew what the rules are and decided to act the exact opposite.”

The lady shoved the man aside and stormed out of the cafe without saying anything back.

“People can be a bit crazy like that, huh,” that man gave out a slight chuckle.

“I’m sorry for that. It must’ve been uncomfortable.”

“Don’t worry about it. She shouldn’t take your pictures without your permission like that.”

The owner paused at what he said. Once again, she left without deleting the pictures.

*

That morning, the cafe owner felt a lot more irritated than usual. He had been staring at the mirror for the past five minutes and the connection between himself and the person who stared back at him stretched further and further away. He was becoming an impostor. 

His fingers once again touched the surface of the looking glass, and his reflection never fails to mimic his movement. He traced upwards towards his chin, his nicely shaped jaw, then his plump lips. Up until this point, he started to have flashes of images about what happened with the lady the day before. A phone camera in front of his face. The sound of shutters went off. That wretched lady showed a photo of himself. 

The cafe owner shuddered at the memory. His fingers stopped at the reflection of his eyes. As the photo of himself on the phone flashed inside his mind once again, he thought that the twin orbs looked funny. 

He didn’t remember ever having green eyes.

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Zombie Apocalypse in 2020

Halloween. The night of the dead. And what’s more convincing to be among the dead than to join a zombie parade?

One thing that I miss about Halloween is the costume party. We can pretend to be any character that we want, while lowkey revealing our inner personality that we hide from public eyes under the mask of said character’s traits. Or going all out and dressed as a zombie.

Speaking of zombies, if I got caught in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, I would be that character at the start of the movie that died first, either because of lack of stamina, or lack of brain power. 

But one day, I discovered Zombie Shuffle. It’s the perfect event if you want to be among zombies without the fear of being mauled by one (but if that’s your preference, then too bad).

I first discovered about the event in 2012, when I was still living in Melbourne. If you watched the earlier scenes of Train to Busan, the situation is quite identical, without the added cannibalism, of course. It was like one day you decided to go to the city, and then suddenly it’s the zombie apocalypse. 

At first, it might look like a nightmare, but when I started to pay more attention to the effort that people put to make themselves undead, I grew fascinated by them. Their level of costume design and makeup is out of this world. 

And if you think this happened at night, you’re wrong. It was in the middle of the day because zombies don’t care about sunlight (unlike their distant undead cousin). This made me able to look at their costumes in even more detail.

Now, it’s 2020. With the situation that we have now, it’s very difficult to recreate a zombie apocalypse scene since all the zombies are social distancing (gathering in large groups is not recommended). I think at this point, we have become zombies in our own ways. I stayed in my house for too long, I can even feel my brain rotting. I might need to look for a new one.  

I mean how many of you leave your room aside from looking for food or bathroom business? Showering might have become a secondary need these days. It’s funny how a zombie-like state is equivalent to a lack of mobility, even though zombies in movies and games are pretty agile. One example is in #Alive, the new Korean movie on Netflix. Not only do they have stronger will to “live”, but also more sensitive hearing ability. Meanwhile, the only ability I developed since becoming a zombie is the capacity of engulfing more food. 

Image courtesy of Netflix

How about you? Have you become a zombie yet?

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Starlight

Trigger warning: description of death and blood

Thou who scorn at His creation, even though all that He made are undoubtedly equal in value, shall be damned into the world below. Thy ability to soar shall be replaced, thus thy attempt to reach heaven shall forever be futile.

On dark nights, like Mother always told me when I was a little girl, I should always lock the door and windows. There should be no objects that could let anything into the house stay opened. She said, there are creatures of the dark that could sneak inside if we didn’t  lock the doors and windows, creatures of the dark that would steal our wings and eat our souls within. 

One night, Mother forgot to lock the window. She was found lying on the kitchen floor the next day. Her wings were gone and her blood was on the walls. Her eyes were hollow. Since that day, I always locked the doors and windows to keep demons out.

Sometimes I wonder why people like us have wings. Mother used to tell me stories about how demons and winged people came to be, about why they don’t have wings and always craving for ours. Why they could only barge in a house that didn’t have locked doors and windows. Why they only hunted us.

Even though I have wings, Mother would never let me fly. 

“They’ll see you,” she said at first.

“It would be easier for them to find you,” she explained the second time I asked her.

“It’s dangerous,” she said the last time and I never nagged her about flying anymore.

I could see how terrified she was about demons. She always told me to go off to bed right after the sunset. I disobeyed her once and peeked at her from upstairs. I saw her standing beside the front door while both of her hands held a kitchen knife. Someone, or something, banged at the door over and over again, made her almost cry. The next day, she scolded me because she actually saw me peeking from upstairs. She ordered me to go to my room after dark so the demons could not find me. 

“Always be ready, with a weapon in hand to attack them if they managed to burst the door open,” she explained the reason she was standing beside the front door.

“Upstairs is a safe place. They thought that we flew to get to the second floor, and they can’t fly. Just keep the stairs hidden.”

I got curious pretty often. Once I got curious about what it feels like to fly. I knew this pair of wings were attached on my back for a reason. I tried to fly, from the second floor, when mother was away to the market. I climbed up to my bedroom window and tried to flap my wings hard before I jumped out. And I fell down. 

I fell down and I didn’t expect it to happen. I thought at least I would float a bit. I thought at least I wouldn’t hit the ground so hard. But I did and I cried until my eyes ran out of tears. Not only because it hurt so much, but also because I felt like my wings were fake. Like they didn’t belong to me. Mother found me on the ground and screamed in shock after she found out that my leg was broken. She then allowed me to sleep in her room until it healed. That day, we decided that there would be no more flying attempts in the future.

“Jealousy starts everything,” she told me once, more like a warning than a storytelling.

She always told me that demons are those creatures that don’t appreciate Lord’s creation. They are made of fire and we are only made of earth, so they thought that they value more than us. Demons refused to be equal to us, which made Lord furious. Lord ripped the demons’ wings off and attached them to our backs before He banished them to the world below. 

We were sent to the world below as well to guide the demons. Lord wanted us to make the demons realize we were no different whatever we are made of. But because demons are made of fire, they unleashed their wrath upon us and also upon Him. Instead of making peace with us, they kept trying to steal back the wings to fly back above by themselves, leaving us down here to perish.

“I forbid you to fly because there is a chance that they might see you. There is no need to throw salt on an open wound, alright?”

That story convinced me ever more that these wings were not mine. Should never have been mine.

Mother also told me how to cast some spells, a few simple spells to make my life easier and more secure. For example, how to move an object with only a swift of a hand, how to make yourself invisible for a few minutes, and most importantly how to lock the door and windows. We could only cast simple spells because our powers were not strong enough for complicated ones.

“These wings are a heavy burden,” she explained.

She told me over and over again to always lock the doors and windows using the spell because demons could still barge in if we didn’t. Before she died, she taught me how to nullify another’s ability to cast spells.

“Every being in this world, us, witches and wizards, kings and queens, even demons are able to cast spells. If you feel insecure when you encounter someone, use this spell immediately.”

I’ve never used it even once, though, because it was never needed. Because I thought that she would always be there for me.

Mother loved my name. She always said to me that my name is beautiful and wished to have a name like mine. Starlight, that means specs of hope in deep darkness. Starlight, that also means the luck to survive the night. Starlight, that means a wonderful feeling knowing you are still alive in the morning in one piece. Even my hair has the color that matches my name. That is why she gave me that name and always dressed in me in white.

I took care of the house after my mother died. I was in shock to the point that I was unable to scream, speak, move nor cry. I ran out to look for help from all my neighbours, and together, we buried my mother. Afterwards, I still had to wash off her blood that had splattered over the kitchen on my own. 

The blood may have washed off, but the memories hadn’t. That was why I put Mother’s picture all over the house. I almost never use my room anymore and slept in Mother’s room all the time instead. I barely set foot on the second floor since that day. I thought, what’s the point? I couldn’t even fly. It only gave me a fake feeling of being a few meters off the ground.

*

I always went out during the day because staying at home gave me an uneasy feeling. Every vibe that the house gave out suffocating me. It reminded me of everything: the idea of Mother’s death, the idea of being hunted and the idea of being unable to fly. 

In the early morning, I usually went out for a walk. Sometimes I went to the market to buy some food when my supplies ran out. That day, I decided to visit the market after I realised that there was nothing to cook for lunch. On that very afternoon, when I walked back home, something strange had occurred. A sudden darkness covered the sky. I could see people rush back home and lock their doors and windows in a hurry. 

My heart raced. My breathing quickened. I forced both of my feet to run faster than I had ever run before. But obviously my speed wouldn’t beat the darkness that covered the sun. I didn’t give up. I didn’t want to give up. I kept on running and running until finally reached the house and immediately slipped inside. I didn’t think twice to lock the doors and windows with a spell. But it was a little too late.

I could feel a strange choking aura right after I entered my house. It was warm, but not a comforting one; more like the one that makes you hard to breathe. Nullifying spell, nullifying spell. I repeated it over and over in my mind, but was unable to say it out loud since my lips were trembling greatly. Terrified stutters were the only sound that came out. The images of Mother’s death suddenly flashed before me. Both my knees and my arms were shaking hard, until I dropped all of my groceries. 

His long, dark red hair was the first feature that I noticed. His smirk was next as he bared his perfectly sharp teeth. Smoke came out from his smile, made me realise that he breathed fire. His golden eyes pierced my courage until I could give out a whimper. His attire was no different from a magician: white, long sleeved blouse and black trousers. If not for his sharp teeth, he could be one. But there he was, sat in front of me, the demon himself.

Thou who have my flesh and bone attached on your back, I shall attach it back to where it belongs.

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D – Part 2

Trigger warning: descriptions of assault

D for Danger

Demi is sitting inside her room, her old room. The walls are clear and it starts to turn into a yellowish colour. The Ds have vanished, no Ds anywhere. Her bed seems old, and gives out a creaking sound when she drops herself on it. The window invites waves of wind inside that dance with her lace curtain. It feels light, nostalgic.

The bedroom door suddenly opens with a long creak, as if it is pushed carefully. Demi stares at it for a while, expecting someone to come in—her dad perhaps. Instead, a red snake slithers in, gives out a faint ‘sss…’ as it drags its body forward, making its way towards Demi. Her eyes widen on the sight of the foreign reptile, but her fear is not strong enough to urge her to escape. She jerks her legs up a bit as the snake moves closer and closer to her. She doesn’t want it to touch her. The serpent slowly coils itself up to Demi’s leg. She can feel the slick scales of it, thick and tough, wraps around her calf and up to her thigh. The more it moves upwards, the more it tightens the wrap. Demi grabs its neck and tries to release herself from it, but the snake is no match for her helplessness. 

As Demi is in the middle of struggling herself off the snake, a flock of ravens ambush her from the window. Their cawing fills the room like a sound of blaring sirens. The flaps of their wings give Demi a faint blast of wind from all sides, disturbs her battle of strength with the snake. The ravens crying beside her ears, scratch her skin with their talons and pinch her hair with their beaks. As she loses her focus, the snake takes its chance to wrap its body tighter around Demi’s lower stomach. Demi feels as if her organs are being squeezed out of her system. She yells in pain. But the voice that comes out from her mouth is not hers; instead a loud roar of a lion that silences the screaming ravens at once. 

On the other hand, the snake doesn’t care; the snake fears nothing. It continues to trace Demi’s torso and moves towards her back. Just when it forms a full circle, Demi starts to feel a suffocating pressure around her diaphragm. She screams some more and the lion roar blasts out from her mouth once again. She can see that her leg is starting to match the colour of the snake’s skin. She tries to claw the reptile off her just like how the ravens scratch her back, while low snarls escape her throat, but the snake won’t give her any mercy. Her spine feels like it’s about to pop. Her cheeks are wet now, and her arms are quivering. Her throat is growling and her head is ringing. The ravens are tugging her earlobes and pulling her hair. She hunches down to a ball; the snake’s head is on her chest.

A sudden sharp and moist object thrusts her neck. Demi gasps as she slowly feels the skin burns. Her hands are gripping on the snake’s thick body, trying to sustain the pain. She can feel that the snake only manages to move slightly, not planning to let go of her neck. There is a clear sound of her blood being sucked out under her ear, followed by big gulps. She’s not able to let any voice out of her mouth, as if there is an invisible shield in her throat. The disturbance is finally stopping. She hopes that the ravens left the room already, so she only has to deal with the bloodsucking serpent. 

There are twinkling stars crowding her vision. She looks up and stares at her bedroom wall. The clear, untouched and yellowish bedroom wall. As her arms start to give out and drop at her side, she can see black spots in front of her, just like a burning photograph. The gulping and sucking sound is getting fainter, and the black blotches are spreading wider. 

Help.

Help!

HELP!

She finally let herself go and trust unconsciousness to catch her fall.

D for Damaged

Her finger, slowly and carefully, touches the number on her phone one by one. The dial gives out a beeping sound before Demi’s finger moves onto another number. A crack is visible across the screen, making it difficult to tell whether she’s tapping the right number or not. When she’s finished, she rests her hand on her lap, her fingers twisting the hem of her hoodie. Her pants are missing, leaving her legs showing off fresh bruises that stamped on several parts of it. There are clear thick red marks on her neck, and same coloured spots at the edge of her lips. Her eyes are moist with bulging skin underneath them. Her hair is tangled, rowdy. 

‘Mother? It’s Demi.’

There are high-pitched rambles at the end of the other line.

‘I was so angry at you yesterday so I went to see dad,’ her voice is hoarse and rough, followed by a sniffling sound.

‘I didn’t want to go back home, and ended up staying at dad’s house.’

The voice at the other line grows sharper, with shorter words.

‘And there was someone here,’ Demi grips her phone harder and slowly lowers her head down. The image of the red snake clouds her mind again. She remembers how it slithered down into her room. But the image goes blurry, disrupted by a shadow of a grown man by the door. Demi squeezes her eyes shut, confused. Who came into the room last night?

There is silence on the other line as Demi starts to sob.

‘Please come quickly, Mother, everything hurts.’ Her voice is interrupted with heavy sobbing, and she crunches her phone harder.

The voice on the other line softens, but it grows longer and longer until it finally ends with a repetitive beeping sound. Demi drops her phone to the floor, and then she grabs both of her arms to soften the trembling. But as an effect, the tremor grows more severe as she weeps harder. Growls escape from her mouth as she cannot control her breathings.

She tries to calm herself down. Mother is coming; mother is coming to get me. As her emotions eases down, she lifts up her head to find the letter D is looking at her from the bedroom wall. It wasn’t there before; it didn’t help her when she was struggling with the snake and ravens. D for destroyed, D for dead end, D for downfall, D D D. She looks away and finds a pair of scissors on the table beside the bed, the twin blade that failed to protect her that night. The roar of the lion suddenly swirls around in her head, but it gradually changes into a voice of a man that sounds foreign to her. It makes her grits her teeth and grabs the scissors. With a limping step, she storms towards the wall and scratches off the jet black letter with the scissors.

D for disaster, D for disgusting, D for dying, D D D!

Demi slumps down to the floor; the wall in front of her is horrifyingly damaged. At least she can’t see the letter D anymore.

D for Delusional

‘Demeter, you have to understand that it is hard for me to tell you this, darling,’ her mother is sitting in front of her. Her voice is trembling. There is a wrinkle on her forehead, but she can’t find anger behind it. Her mother grabs Demi’s hands, wrapping her perfectly polished red nails around them. Demi is surprised by her action, and starts to look at her mother with concern. Is this about that night?

‘Your father… your father died this morning,’ her mother’s eyes are starting to glisten; her hands turn cold.

Demi is lost for words. She can feel a sharp object plunging down her stomach. Her head lost its focus, making her unable to hear what her mother is saying between her sobbing. Her eyes shift to the wall behind her mother’s head. A white, perfectly painted wall with small patches beside the shelves as if something was painted over it. But no D, she can’t find D anywhere just like how she couldn’t see it when she heard the shrieking primates, and when she found a spider in her bedroom, or when she fought the red snake. No divorce, no danger, no dying, no Demeter.

Demi looks down to her lap and sighs in relief. Her mouth forms a smile.

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D – Part 1

D for Dreams

She could stand anything, the uneasy stares or the sharp words, anything but the shouting. Her parents never blew up in front of her, but even in the distance, she could taste the bitterness of their anger. The first argument would always start with her mother. And after she heard her mother’s high-pitched voice, she would hurry herself up to seek shelter in her bedroom on the second floor, far away from the riot, and shut the door. But even that didn’t help; the voice always found its way to sneak inside. She glanced at the wall and spotted a letter D that was beautifully painted by her father. Her tiny fingers traced on the brittle surface. D for Demi, but at that time it was more like D for desperation.

After waiting for a while, the shouting has gotten worse. She retreated to her bed and created a cave using a quilt. Her breaths were forced to come out harder as she hoped it would shush all the anger away. Suddenly, there was a faint ‘boom’ as if a dinosaur was stomping downstairs, making her bed rattle. Another ‘boom’ and her room quaked, followed by the sound of dust crumbling down from the cracking ceiling. She threw the quilt off her head, to hear the voice better, making sure that her parents weren’t having a war downstairs. As she focused on the voices outside her door, she could hear that her parents’ arguing was slowly dissolved to become a sound of shrieking primates, in harmony with the explosions that shook her room. She scanned her bedroom wall slowly to find the letter D had completely disappeared. Quickly, she covered herself with the quilt again and transformed herself into a turtle.

D for Disease

‘Demeter, your father and I thought that you should be living with me from now on.’

Demi sighs hard and turns her face to the side to make her mother only able to see her face that was covered by her hair.

 ‘You know I don’t want to,’ her voice is low and grunted.

‘Come on, Demeter, you are not old enough to live on your own. Who is going to take care of you?’

‘I will take care of myself, and dad,’ she finally looks her mother in the eye. 

‘Hey, cancer is a serious thing. Your father can’t look after you in his condition.  That’s why I am here so we can support him together, so we both can fight for him, alright? Don’t think that I want to take you away from your father…’ 

Demi’s eyes dart away to take a good look at her room, the babbling words of her mother trailing off from her mind. She focuses on how empty the house seems to be with her father gone. It used to be just them two, watching telly, cooking, painting. She remembers how they got carried away and covered the walls with different shapes of letter Ds. There is a big one on the wall behind her mother. The letter is so vivid, as if it is alive, about to jump out of the wall and chain her so she will remain with it. No matter how many times she blinks, the D still proudly decorates the massive canvas, as if it owns the room. Demi and Dad. The two Ds that make the voices of shrieking primates, her quaking room and the crumbling ceiling to stop. 

Demi feels a slight touch on her hand, and she jolts back to present time. She looks down and finds her mother’s polished red nails resting on her fingers. ‘Demeter?’

She immediately yanks her hand away.

‘Do I get to visit dad in the hospital?’

‘Of course you can.’

‘As often as I want?’

‘As often as you want.’

D for Dominance

Her vision is groggy, as if there is a thin layer of cotton covering her eyes. The pillow under her head feels like a gentle wave of sea, encouraging her to drift back to sleep. The quilt wraps her body perfectly, as if she is ready to transform into a silk cocoon. The easy morning breeze tickles her cheek, followed by a chirping sound of robin that nests inside her ear. The wind is dancing with the smell of lavender, which slowly wakes up her senses. 

When her vision starts to adjust, she spots a tiny red dot in front of her. A groan escapes from her throat as she tries to focus on the awkward figure. Just when her eyes manage to process the image of an eight-legged bug, she is startled, and her entire body freezes. The beautiful things that spoiled her to wake up, vanished. What is left is a feeling of tiny invisible needles poking her backbone. 

The fear makes Demi not able to move, but neither does the spider. As she is stuck in her position, she has no choice but to observe the bug’s beautifully structured feature. It has a balanced size between the head and the body, and eight clearly segmented arms that make it move in staccato rhythm. The red colour of its body is unique, exotic, makes it like a gliding ruby. Demi pays attention to its jaw, opening and closing as if it mutters something indistinct. 

She tries to look away from the spider and around her room, to find a way to kill it. Her bedroom walls are white, empty and clear, as well as the insides of her shelves and study desk. No single scratch or stain is present. Her eyes return to look at the crimson insect, as if it pulls them towards it using its web. And as she focuses on the bug again, she sees that it suddenly jumps towards her. Demi jolts up in panic, her eyes are getting more focused on the spider that makes its way up to her shoulder. The spider jabs its sharp jaws on her skin, and Demi shuts her eyes tight.When she flings them open again, the bug is nowhere to be seen. She throws away her quilt that covers her sleeping position, and gets off from the bed to make sure that the bug has already moved out from her territory. She stands beside her bed awkwardly and looks around her room. 

Gradually, she can hear the sound of water dripping from the garage roof outside her window. She bends her body in slow motion until properly seated at the edge of her bed. Her eyes scan her new room that she inhabits not too long ago. There is a letter D that she beautifully crafted on her bedroom wall yesterday with black ink that wasn’t there before when the spider attacked her. She then eyes her shelf, now full of pictures of her together with her dad. Various books on history, art, literature, and science accompany the photographs. On the wall in front of the desk, a piece of paper is glued on it that read YEAR 11 TIMETABLE. When she finishes looking around, she ruffles her hair and chuckles to mock at her silliness. 

*

Demi is walking to the dining room when she hears the television mumbling in the living room. She ends up taking a detour and stops in front of the TV to observe the image flashing on the screen. The TV shows a huge flock of people marching on the street, some of them wearing pink. They are holding different kinds of banners in their hands. Some of the banners have writings like ‘If you don’t fight for all women, you fight for no women’. After a while, she turns off the TV and resumes her journey to the dining room.

‘That is a nice piece of art,’ Jake says as Demi sits in front of him and puts her bag on the dining table. He nods to point out at something behind Demi that makes her follow his gaze. She turns her body and looks at the dining room wall. The letter D painted with black ink is in contrast with the white shelves beside it. She smiles and faces him again.

‘Thanks.’ Even after Jake married her mother for ten years, she still feels awkward to have a conversation with him.

‘Don’t encourage her, honey. She will stamp every room with her name in no time,’ her mother joins the conversation with a plate of toasts and scrambled eggs in hand, and a red apron around her waist.

‘I won’t mind, Demeter is a nice name.’ Jake takes a couple slices of toasts and scoops some eggs. Demi takes her turn while smiling faintly at Jake.

Her mother sits down beside Jake, and she stares at Demi as if she just discovered something horrendous. 

‘Going somewhere?’ She asks, taking her portion of breakfast.

‘I’m going out to meet Claude,’ Demi takes a bite of her toast.

‘Dressing like that?’ her mother points at her with her fork.

‘Yeah,’ Demi replies while chewing.

‘Don’t you have nicer clothes?’ Her mother’s voice is colliding with the clinking sound of dining utensils hitting the plate.

‘What’s wrong with this one?’ She looks down to observe her black hoodie that is paired up with her ripped jeans.

‘Well, you are a girl, shouldn’t you wear more skirts instead of pants? And with that haircut, people will mistake you as a boy.’

Demi groans loudly, tilting her head back in frustration. Her fork and knife are dropped on the table, giving out a loud tap. She immediately gets up from her chair to hang her bag on her shoulder before stomping towards the front door. Jake is trying to reason with her mother in the background.

‘Demeter!’ 

Demi grips the doorknob and turns it harshly.

‘Mother, no matter how many times you call me by that name, I won’t magically transform into a goddess!’

She storms out and slams the door shut.

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